"Jake's New Regimen" by Exjockfeeder. Part II chapter 8: Training Begins

On the final Friday, just three days before the eating contest, Tom revealed that he was extremely impressed. He had maintained a stern but encouraging stance, the coach pushing his jock hard to stick to the regimen, making him live up to the expectations, but the sight of Jake's mass was making him nuts. The jock's transformation was stunning.

"Well, Jake. You have outstretched my hopes. The contest is Monday, and I think you might be in fighting shape at last. Let's see just how good that belly is looking."

Jake beamed and threw his shoulders back. His gut launched out in from of him. It felt so full and heavy, yet it hovered high and round as if filled with helium. Eighty percent of his gain was going right to his ballooning ball gut, the remaining weight rounding out his big bubble butt and meaty pecs. He had no idea what he was weighing, but he knew his belly was damn huge.

Tom's jaw dropped, despite himself, despite having seen the daily growth. Jake caught his reaction, took a deep breath and pushed his gut out some more to really impress his boss. Tom had to come closer. Jake was totally into it. He stood proudly to be admired. He grabbed the sides of his belly and bounced it for Tom. It rocked with a heavy thud. "Boss, you've really gotten me into this eating thing." Tom was walking around Jake slowly, brushing against the beefy stud's body as he studied his blown out gut from all angles. Jake was rubbing his fat bulging sides vigorously. "I mean, heh - I'll have to work pretty fucking hard to shrink this huge thing after that contest, but man, I've been getting SO into all this food. I'm gonna miss it. Shiiiit, this feels goo-oood!" It was hard to say who was more into the jock's belly.

Tom took in Jake's every muscled and fattened bulge. Everything on him looked thicker. His beefy ass pushed out like two giant melons. His broad shoulders were back and his tree trunk legs spread to counterbalance the ponderous bulk of his gut. Amazing how the jock took to this. Tom envisioned Jake even fatter. "You're not losing a fucking pound, fatboy," he thought. "Quite the opposite!"

"You are going to be incredible once I really get you going." That last line was said out loud, despite Tom's usual control. Jake looked up from his own belly and chuckled. "What, this hasn't been really goin'?" He had no idea what Tom meant. All he knew was that Tom was loving the view, and he was standing there proudly, letting his gut show in full glory. It was like hitting a home run.

Tom came around to the front of Jake's belly and stopped, leaning into the fat sphere between them. He had to fully feel it. Jake didn't flinch. If anything, it felt like he was pushing his belly out a bit more.

"I have an idea Jake." Both men were leaning into his gut full force by now. "I think you've had a great first few weeks, and it's time to give you a rest ¬ at least from construction work - this Friday."

"Yeah, boss?"

"Yes. And I think it's time for a trial run for the contest next week. No work for you today ¬ except eating."

"Heh ¬ pretty much how all these work days have been going, boss."

"You think? You have no idea. Better loosen your belt Jake."

"No belt boss. None of them fit any more. This gut's gotten too fucking big for that. Hell, these new jeans barely fit any more. Not like I need to hold 'em up."

Tom wrapped his big arms around the fat swell pressed into him and started pushing Jake across the room by his belly. Jake took his lead, keeping in step without losing contact between his belly and Tom's strong torso. Tom guided him onto the only stool in the nearly finished room. Jake landed on it hard, his beefy muscled thighs nearly crushing it between them. His gut rounded upward as his big legs hit its underside.

"Sit right there. The food is coming to you today. Remember. This is your dry run for the eating contest. Show me what you can do. Impress me Jake. I want to see a new level from you."

Jake readied himself like it was the start of the big game. Tom went into the adjacent storeroom ¬ a room that Jake had yet to be in. He came back wheeling a cart loaded with breakfast foods. Stacks of pancakes. Pastries. Bacon and sausage. Biscuits. Heaps of cheese and eggs. Jake was salivating at the sight of the food like Pavlov's Dog. Tom pushed the trolley up to press into the jock's belly and made him eat right off the cart. No plates. Just a fork, his hands, and the platters of fattening food.

Jake ate and ate. Tom walked around him, surveying his progress, issuing stern commands to keep gorging. Jake might slow for a second, but Tom kept spiking his pace, urging him on, a driving taskmaster. Jake responded every time. The combination of orders and encouragement brought out the show-off jock in spades. The fat stud was inhaling the food, only able to groan and chew as his belly pushed out. His face reddened from the effort, but he pushed on. His orders were to clear the plates. He wasn't going to stop until each one empty. Tom insisted. Jake obeyed. His belly ballooned. He finally fell back from breakfast victorious. The cart was ravished. Jake looked like its entire volume had simply transferred into his gut. His eyes were half shut. All he did was moan and rub his belly, head drooping a bit as he checked out the results.

"Ooooo. Fuuuck. Boss . . . shit! SO stuffed . . . I . . feel . . . . so . . . . . fuuckin' . . . full . . . ." Jake looked ready to pass out.

Tom let him rest it off, but not for long. A new cart appeared within an hour. "Ready for the next round,?" Jake hadn't stopped rubbing his belly since breakfast. He surveyed the heaps of food now facing him. "Damn, dunno . . . if I'm . . . mmmmm . . . ready . . . ooooofff . . . yet." Jake tried to sit upright. His belly bulged to show how tight it still was. He shook his head and made an effort to revive. His gut pushed him back. "Feel - this - thing - boss." Jake was smacking his belly hard. The thump resonated across the empty room. "I think - those pancakes . . . shit, I feel FAT . . . swelled up in here . . . or somethin'!"

Tom saw not only the jock's giant belly, but the bulge in his jeans as he leaned back against the wall. "I don't think I can do it yet coach. Give me a few."

"Totally unacceptable," Tom said. "You think that guy Monday is going to ask for a rest? Hell no. This food in going in you NOW Fatboy!" Tom stood over Jake with a burger in his hand. Jake opened his mouth to protest, and Tom rammed it into his mouth. Jake was trying to talk through the food pressed to his lips, but each attempt only let in more of the burger. Jake's eyes went wide. Tom let out an evil laugh. "That's it fatso. EAT EAT EAT!" Jake started chewing and swallowing, faster, more hungrily - his only choice. Food came at him in a fury. He sounded like a rutting pig as he gulped it down and tried to inhale between mouthfuls. Tom was relentless. At least the jock could lean back, give his belly room to swell, not have to lean forward and do the work. He submitted totally, throbbing as Tom stuffed and stuffed him, eating ravenously and relishing Tom's impressed grin despite the growing ache in his dangerously bulging belly. His gut blew out tight in every direction. The skin stretched over his belly like a taught balloon. The tighter his belly swelled, the harder his dick got. Precum spots began leaking through his jeans. Tom saw every bulge. He fed Jake even harder. With one hand he rammed food in the jock, with his other, he reached for the jeans. They were so damn tight. He could barely get his fingers in them to pop the buttons. Jake was aching to free his thickly swollen cock. Tom's hand on his waistband made it worse. Mouth stuffed, he reached under his giant belly to help Tom bust open his pants. He furiously fumbled with the bottons, now so tough to reach. Once the first one was popped, the others blew open from the pressure. Jake let out a grunt or relief.

Tom shoved an entire pie toward Jake's fattened face and grabbed the jock's engorged cock. "Feed yourself, you fat pig!" Jake's dick leapt in Tom's hand. He took the pie with both hands and buried his face in it while Tom stroked. Jake's belly looked ready to explode, but he was in utter ecstasy. He gobbled down huge mouthfuls of pie. It was smeared on his nose and lips as he gorged. "That's it you fat pig. Eat like the prize hog you are! I know just how much of a pig you are now, Fatboy! Make that belly explode for me you FAT fucking PIG!" Jake's tongue hit the bottom of the pie plate and his dick erupted all over Tom's hand and his giant belly. Jake fell back and the stool flew out from under him. He was still shooting as he toppled back against the wall, pinned under his gut. He moaned and slid down the wall until he sprawled flat on his back. His belly towered in the air. Tom saw nothing but the jock's spread legs and the giant sphere of a cum spotted belly. He tore open his own pants and beat off over the fattened, comatose jock, spewing on the top of the planet of fat. Jake barely lifted his head at the feel of the warm cum and indulged a dazed grin before dropping his head and passing out asleep, holding his belly as if to keep it from busting.

A little later, he woke to the feel of a warm cloth washing his belly. He opened his eyes and looked down, seeing nothing but the round horizon. He couldn't even see what he felt, but it felt damn good. His groan of pleasure let Tom know his prize hog was awake again.

"Like the feel of this fat belly, Jake?" Another moan in reply. "Good thing. I've decided you're not leaving this room until the contest." Jake tried to lift his head. The weight of his gut surprised even him. He was still stuffed tight. His huge belly weighed a ton. Tom was now massaging Jake's fat bulge in big slow arcs. The jock laid back and pushed his gut into Tom's hands. "That's it fatso. Now I know just what a pig you are. You're doing nothing but eat for me ¬ as long as I say." Jake felt Tom's crotch pressing into the top of his belly as he rubbed. He would submit to anything he was told the way he felt right now. He had no idea how much more he could eat. But he wanted Tom to show him. He wanted it bad. He moaned again at the feel of Tom's manly hands and body on his belly. He let the words out softly.

"Feed me coach."

"What did you say fatso?"

"Feed me."

"You want me to feed you MORE, fatso?"

"Yeah. Oh god yeah. Feed me coach."

"How much, fatso?

"Fuck, whatever you want coach. More. Feed me more!"

"What do you want me to do to you fatso?"

"Make me fatter coach."

"How fat, fatso?"

"God. SO fat coach! Make me fatter. Make me fucking HUGE!"

Tom was hugging Jake's belly and thumping its sides. "Fatter than this, fatboy?"

"Oh god yeah. Make me so fucking fat coach. Make me a fucking BLIMP!"

Jake was ready to cum all over again. Tom was grinding his hips into Jake's gut as the jock begged. The fat mound between them rocked with their movements. They both shot with a loud yelp. Tom collapsed on Jake's belly, looking down into the handsome stud's post coital gaze.

"Just remember you asked for it you Fat Pig."

Jake was kept in his feed room for the rest of the weekend. Tom fed him ruthlessly. Jake barely spoke except to ask for more food. Jake had no sense of time. His weekend was nothing but feedings, sexual explosions and naps. He was dazed when Tom finally told him it was time to go home.

"Tomorrow's your big day, Fatboy. You finally get a rest. I think we stretched this gut enough, and I want you to let it recover so we can beat them all tomorrow."

It took both their strength to get the groggy jock up on his feet. He almost feel forward from the weight in front of him. Tom guided him to his truck, and Jake worked to climb up into the cab. He planted his beefy ass on the driver's seat, sighed heavily, and then swung to hoist his gut into place. With a thud, his belly smacked into the wheel. Jake rocked to his left and threw his weight again. Bam. No luck. His belly had grown too big to even fit behind the wheel. Tom was thrilled. Jake fell from the cab and landed on the ground hard, almost falling forward again. He steadied himself, which was like trying to stop a speeding semi. "Now what coach?"

"Guess you stay here tonight, Fatboy." Jake lumbered back into the room he knew all too well. He was exhausted. He needed to sleep and didn't care where. He was actually glad he didn't have to drive home. He dropped to his knees, let his gut hit the floor, and then rolled over his beach ball gut down onto his back. Tom found a tarp and rolled it up into a pillow for his trainee and let him sleep it all off.

to be continued.